A/N: Wow only 8 more letters left, and the ride will be over. I hope you have enjoyed the one shots and would be interested in knowing your favorite one. I hope I have found some creatures you didn't know about and made the hunts interesting. Thank you for hanging in there. I do love reviews. NC


R

The loud hiss of air brakes brought Dean upright and looking around, trying to make sense of where he was. He saw brick buildings and cars driving by where he was parked. He had stopped at a rest area to catch a few hours of sleep before heading on to a town still four hours away in the upper part of Louisiana called Mansfield. He rubbed his tired eyes and slid across the seat to get out and head for the restroom.

It had been nearly two years now since Sam had left and gone to college at Stanford. Dean had not called him, nor had Sam tried to contact him. He knew their father had gone by the college several times to check on him, always keeping his distance, just to be sure he was okay. Dean was giving Sam the space he wanted for now. He had hunted with their father for a while after Sam left, but the ill feelings between them wouldn't go away.

Dean learned one night when his father was drunk that he was proud of Sam for getting the scholarship, but he was afraid for him too. He wouldn't have anyone to watch his back or protect him if something came after him. He thought it would be his fault if something happened to him. John was feeling guilty over how it was left between his youngest and him but couldn't make himself breakdown and go tell him. Dean had started working his own cases and only helped his Dad when he needed it.

After using the restroom, Dean walked over to the vending machines and looked at his choices. He could try the coffee here or head down to an exit that had real food and better coffee. Deciding on the latter, he strolled back to the Impala and cranked her up, listening to the loud roar that settled into a hefty purr as he put her into drive to pull out and back onto the interstate.

Dean didn't have to drive but a few miles before seeing a 24-hour truck stop and decided a good breakfast might be a good idea. When he worked a case, sometimes food was forgotten for long periods of time. This was happening more frequent now that he didn't have Sam with him to remind him, they should eat. He missed his brother by his side and glanced at the empty passenger seat and sighed heavily.

After exiting onto the ramp, Dean turned left and pulled into the parking lot for the truck stop. He found parking and got out to head inside to have breakfast. He sat at the bar and looked at a menu as the waitress stopped and poured him a coffee when he turned his cup over for her. He ordered the Meat Lover's Special and sipped on his coffee as he waited for his food. Dean was sitting where he could see the other patrons in the dining room and gave them a curious glance, not sensing any danger from them. He smiled when the waitress brought his plates and sat them in front of him. Business was picking up as he enjoyed his food and got a coffee to go before getting up to head to the front and pay. He used some change to leave the older waitress a tip and thanking her.

spn

Traffic was moving along at a steady pace and Dean made good time to the small town. He cruised down the main part of the town checking out the businesses and finding the sheriff department and hospital where the morgue usually was. He was going to grab a motel room and change before coming back as FBI or maybe he should be a US Marshall this time? He pondered it over for a moment and decided to stick with the FBI guise.

He had several motels to choose from and picked the one that looked the cheapest, but clean. Dean had had enough of the ratty, rundown ones over the years that he opted for a step up now that he was on his own. After getting a room, he moved his car to a space in front of his room. Dean got out and grabbed his bags before heading for the door and opening it. It still felt wrong to get a single, but at least it saved him money on a double. When he first started staying by himself, it took him forever to fall asleep because he didn't have the soft snores of his brother to lull him to sleep.

After changing into his suit and dress shoes, he made sure he had the right fake ID and pocketed it before heading back out. Dean had to drive back across town to the sheriff's department and found a visitor's parking spot. He got out and straightened his jacket and tie before heading for the front door.

The setup was like the many law enforcements offices he had been in over the years. A counter sat in the middle of the room with a deputy sitting behind it who looked up as he stepped deeper into the room.

"Good afternoon, can I help you?" the deputy asked, turning his attention to Dean and laying down the paperwork he was reading.

"Agent Stiles, FBI," Dean stated pulling his credentials to show him. "I'd like to see the officer in charge of the latest…Animal attacks."

"Must be slow for the FBI to be investigating animal attacks," the deputy joked as he picked up a phone and called to the back. "Sheriff Norris will be out in a moment if you would like to take a seat."

"Sure," Dean replied eyeing the deputy for a moment wondering if they were all like him or if that was why he was at the front desk and not out on patrol. He moved to take a seat in one of the plastic chairs lining one wall and let his eyes roam around the place searching for anything interesting. Dean looked over the flyers for a bake sale, car wash, and several yard sales. He was drumming his fingers on his leg trying hard not to make weird noises and thinking how Sam would be rolling his eyes at him. He smirked to himself as he thought about his brother and did realize just how much he contributed to a hunt until he wasn't there.

"Good afternoon, I'm Sheriff Norris," a middle aged, tall, fit man told Dean as he held out his hand to shake.

"Agent Stiles, Sheriff. I'm with the FBI. Is there some place we could talk?"

"Of course, if you'll follow me, we can use my office."

Dean got up and followed the sheriff behind the counter and through a door that lead into a squad room. He glanced around at the desks and figured there were probably less than seven deputies for this town. He stepped into a small office that had a desk, two chairs, filing cabinet and two large bookcases full of books.

"I'm surprised to find the FBI on my doorstep and for an animal attack."

"I just go where they send me. You know no questions asked, don't rock the boat," Dean shrugged.

"Agent, I've just got to say this, you look awfully young to be an FBI field agent already."

"Well, thank you kindly. It's good genes, I guess. I'll pass that alone to my Dad," Dean replied. "About these attacks…"

"Right, very sad thing for the town. I mean we have gone nearly six months without anyone dying except from natural causes and now three in two weeks."

"Do you have any idea what type of animal did this?"

"My best guess is a rouge grizzly bear that migrated in from up north. We have black bears in three main areas in Louisiana, but I don't think any of them are this vicious."

"And where were the bodies found?" Dean asked as he jotted down notes.

"On the outskirts of town out toward the bayou. They were all within a five-mile radius of each other."

"I'll need to get a copy of your police reports for all the victims, please. Were there any witnesses?"

"No, I wish there were. I'll have Walker make those copies while we finish up here," Norris said picking up the phone and buzzing someone out in the squad room. After he mumbled a few words and hung up, Norris turned back to Dean. "What else can we do for the FBI?"

"I'd like to see the bodies."

"The morgue is at the hospital in the basement. I'll call ahead and let Doc Roberts know to be expecting you. You will keep me informed of anything you find agent," the sheriff stated more as fact than question.

"Of course, and if you learn anything else, here's my card," Dean answered pulling a business card from his jacket pocket. "I'm staying at the Travelodge on the other side of town."

"Alright, I will make a note of that. You tell Herman the sheriff says hello for me."

"I can do that."

They looked to the phone sitting on the desk as it buzzed, and Dean waited while the sheriff answered it. He only spoke a few words before hanging up and turning back to Dean.

"Those reports you wanted are ready agent," he said getting up and moving around the desk to the door to open it.

Dean followed the sheriff back out into the squad room and to a desk nearby where he as handed several files that he passed to him.

"Thank you, Sheriff, you have a good day," Dean nodded taking the files and heading for the door to leave.

spn

The hospital was small compared to most that he had visited during his time of hunting. He pulled into the parking lot and found a place to park. Dean got out and made his way inside and looked at the signs to find the way to the morgue. He found the stairs and took them down a level to the basement. He could already feel the difference in the atmosphere and the coolness of the air when he pushed the door open and stepped into a hallway. Dean followed the signs down the hall and to the right to the doors marked morgue.

When he pushed the doors open, the coldness hit him in the face at once, sending a chill down his back. He stepped into the sterile, white room seeing two stainless steel tables, hoses hanging above them, two desks, a row of filing cabinets and two other doors leading from the room. He saw one wall had the doors spaced evenly up and down it where the bodies were stored.

"Hello," Dean called looking around the place for the coroner.

"Well, hello young man," an older man dressed in scrubs and a lab coat said as he stepped from one of the rooms. "You must be the FBI agent the sheriff called about."

"Yes, Agent Stiles," Dean introduced himself.

"And you want to see what's left of the bodies of the animal attack victims."

"Yes, that doesn't sound promising."

"Hope you have a strong stomach because it is not a pretty site."

"I've seen worse," Dean commented not bothering to elaborate.

The coroner moved to the wall proceeded to open three drawers to pull the sheet covered trays out for Dean to view the bodies.

"Could I get a copy of your autopsy reports while I check the bodies out?" Dean asked.

"Of course, I was doing that when you came in, figuring you would want them. I'll just go finish up."

Dean looked around and grabbed a pair of gloves to put on before moving to the first body. He pulled the sheet back to reveal a young man whose chest had been torn apart by claws. He could make out the large gouges that racked across his chest. Dean pulled out his cell and snapped some shots thinking this was far more violent that a normal werewolf attack. He lifted the sheet to see more meat flayed from the body leaving raw edges that were bloodless and pale.

He moved to the next one and saw it was in the same shape, but his throat had been ripped out meaning the man died within seconds from blood loss since the carotid artery was severed. Again, the chest was shredded, and he was sure the heart would be missing and maybe other organs.

"Here you go, agent," the coroner said. He had stepped back into the room with a folder in his hand and laid it on one of the tables.

"Doc, were the hearts missing?"

"Yes, and in one a few other organs, but I can't rule out other animals helping themselves to a meal too."

Dean pulled up the last sheet and expected the same sight and wasn't disappointed. The bodies were almost identical in their wound pattern and he was sure no human could have done this. He snapped off the gloves and picked up the folder.

"Thanks for your cooperation, Doc."

"Anytime son. I hope you get the beast before it kills again."

"I am going to try."

Dean left the way he came in and walked out into the warmer air breathing in deeply. It felt good to be out in the sun again and headed for the Impala. He was going to stop for gas and pick up a map of the area so he could check where the bodies were found and where they disappeared from. He wanted to see if there were any common links among the victims and that might tell him who the werewolf was. He was having his doubts that it was one, but he wasn't sure what else it could be. He was going to contact Bobby, his mentor, and see what he thought about the photos.

spn

Dean stepped from the bathroom towel drying his hair before tossing the towel back into the bathroom and going to the table. He had the reports spread out across it along with the map that had X's marked on it. He picked up his cell and dialed a familiar number, waiting for it to be answered.

"Dean how are you doing?" a gruff male voice answered.

"Hey Bobby. I'm on a case in Louisiana in a small town called Mansfield and wanted to see if you'd check out some photos for me."

"Sure son; email them to me and I'll look at them. What are you thinking?"

"I was sure it was a werewolf, but now after seeing the bodies…I'm not that sure anymore. Is there something along that line but a lot meaner?"

"I'm not sure, but I'll check it out."

"Sending them to you now. Get back with me. I'm going over everything I have so far."

"Are you working this case alone Dean?"

"Yeah, Dad's off somewhere doin' his own thing Bobby. I can handle it."

"It's never good to not have backup son. Why don't I call around and see if anyone is nearby and send them your way?"

"I'm good for right now Bobby, really."

"You be careful Dean, you hear me? Don't be an idjit and do something stupid."

"I hear you Bobby," Dean replied before hanging up. He laid his cell aside and picked up some papers to go over again. There had to be something that all three victims had in common if he could only find it. He rubbed his eyes feeling them burn and wished he had Sam there to split the paperwork. He looked at his watch and saw it was getting late and decided to turn in and check out the crime scenes in the morning. He wanted to see if he could determine the hunting grounds or at least the dumping grounds for this monster.

Dean picked his cell up and thumbed through his contacts to S for Sam hovering over it. He wondered if his number was even still in service and sighed as he closed the cell, dropping it back on the table. Maybe when this case was over, he'd reach out to him and see if he would even pick up. He turned the covers on the bed back and slipped between them. He worked on shutting his mind down and letting his body sink into the mattress, relaxing.

spn

It was in the early morning hours when Dean suddenly sat up in bed gasping for air as he struggled to breath. His heart was pounding so hard, he thought it would explode from his chest. He worked on slowing his breathing and tried to figure out what woke him. There was something just out of his reach that he couldn't pull up and rubbed his temples trying to stave the headache that was building behind his eyes.

He got up and went to his bag to find some Tylenol and went to the bathroom to get some water. He shook three pills out and turned on the water to cup his hand capturing some and sipping from it. It took several swallows to get the pills down and he leaned against the sink and squinted his eyes shut. He rubbed the back of his neck for a moment and wondered if there would be any more sleep for him tonight.

This wasn't the first time this had happened in the past couple of years, ever since Sam had left. The problem was he could never remember what he dreamed about that would make him this upset and uneasy. He looked up at his reflection in the mirror and closed his eyes when he saw the haunted look in them. He couldn't look again and turned from it to go back into the other room to sit on the bed. After a few minutes, Dean laid back down, even though he didn't feel like sleeping anymore

The first rays of the sun were beginning to stream through the window of the motel room as Dean lay on the bed eyes still opened, staring up at the ceiling. He pushed himself from the bed and headed for the bathroom to take a shower in hopes it would wash away some of the tension still in his body. It was still early but he decided to stop at a diner down the street to grab some breakfast before heading out. He found some clean clothes and headed into the bathroom turning on the heat and water, letting it warm up.

Once the water was to his liking, Dean stepped under the strong spray and stood there letting it beat on his shoulders and neck. He could feel some of the tightness draining away and rolled his shoulders slowly. He grabbed the small bottle of shampoo and shampooed his hair before using the soap to wash his body. After rinsing off he shut the water off and grabbed a towel, drying his body and hair before stepping from the tub. Dean shook his clothes out and quickly dressed and went into the other room. He found his wallet, keys, and picked up the map from the table, and grabbed his jacket before heading out the door.

spn

The day was warming when Dean pulled off the road and parked. He got out and looked around at the area taking in the bayou that was nearby. He remembered reading about alligators that would swim up these waterways and went to the back to get a larger gun. He made sure his handgun was loaded with silver bullets and loaded a shotgun with rounds, chambering one before closing the trunk.

Dean strolled into the brush following the map to where the last body had been found. It wasn't far from the trail that hikers used and that was the only reason the body had been found so soon after their death. If they had stayed longer, Dean was sure the bodies would have been eaten by other wild animals.

He found the crime scene tape tied to trees and walked around the area. He pictured the photos of the crime scene in his mind and walked to the spot where he found splatters of blood on the leaves nearby and a dark patch of dried blood on the ground. He was lucky there had been no rain in the past week, and nothing had been washed away. He began to walk around the crime scene in a grid pattern looking for evidence that the cops might have missed.

Dean stopped at some briers and knelt to look at some fur caught in thorns and frowned thinking this could be from a werewolf. He fingered a strand of it before standing up and looked the way the trail led. He moved a little deeper and found a road that led through the terrain. He studied the tire tracks that were left there wondering who would be out here in the bayou.

The other two crime scenes were only a mile and a mile and a half from this one. He got his bearings and started walking toward the other sites to check them out. He didn't think he would find much but wanted to cover all his bases. After finding the other two and looking them over, he headed back to the Impala. All three victims disappeared at night and by the coroner's report were killed at night. By his calculations, Dean had a feeling the beast was going to be attacking again tonight or the next. That meant he needed to come back tonight and stake this place out to try and stop it from killing again.

When he got back to the Impala, Dean got in and wiped his face before cranking the window down and starting the car. He headed back to town, letting the warm air blow in the window to cool him. He was going back to the motel to rest for the rest of the day and get ready to stake out the bayou tonight. He wasn't super keen on doing that because of the wild animals that came out at night, but he didn't have much choice.

As soon as he got to the room, Dean turned on the air conditioning to cool the room so he could sleep. He stripped down to his briefs and tee shirt before turning on the television, lowering the volume, and climbing into bed. He let the noise of the television lull him into a light sleep. He didn't know he dropped his cell in the car and didn't get Bobby's calls.

Bobby swore under his breath as his call went to voicemail again and tried another number. He listened to the voicemail and when it beeped, started talking. "John Winchester you need to get your ass to Mansfield, Louisiana before yer boy gets himself killed. I've been trying to call him but he's not answering. He's going after something he's never faced before and it is one tough sonovabitch to kill. He's tracking a Rougarou. It's kin to the werewolf, but much more dangerous. It changes at any time, not just on the full moon cycle. A Rougarou is more powerful than your normal werewolves with enhanced abilities and senses. Silver won't kill it, only make it mad, but it will start the transformation back to its human form. Then, it can be killed. I'm calling anyone I can to see if they are close to help. If you want to save your son's life you better burn rubber and get to him." Bobby hung up the cell and started calling other hunters to see if anyone was near Dean. He was going to jerk a knot in that boy's ass when he saw him again for not listening to him about not working alone.

spn

Dean's internal clock woke him up as it was starting to get dark. He got up and stretched, waking his body up before heading into the bathroom to splash water on his face and relieve himself. He headed back into the main room and dressed before checking the map again to find the road he had found thinking it was a good place to start.

He went outside and climbed into the Impala and headed back to the bayou. It wasn't hard to find the back road and finding an area near where the bodies had been found to park. Dean got out and looked around listening to the nightlife come to life. He went to the trunk and got his handgun loaded with silver bullets, slipping it into the waistband of his jeans. He pulled a small pack out and checked it to be sure it had first aid supplies before shouldering it. He looked at his cache of weapons trying to decide if he should take anything else and pulled a couple of knives out to store on his body.

The noises of the night quieted as Dean silently moved into the woods but started back when he was deemed no threat. He became hyper alert as he let his senses heightened and listened closely to the world that was coming alive around him. He tried to single out any foreign ones that might be what he was hunting.

Once he found what he thought was a suitable place to hide, Dean settled down, deciding to wait for thirty minutes before moving to another spot and trying again. He would continue moving around the woods to see if it paid off or if he was going to have to come out the following night too. A light rain started falling twenty minutes later, making the night seem darker and more sinister. Dean pulled a poncho from his pack and slipped it on to protect from the rain.

spn

It was well after midnight and Dean was at his third hiding spot when twigs breaking nearby had him holding his breath and listening intently to where the sound came from. The rain had slacked up and left the forest dripping and wet. He eased from his hiding spot and heard growling ahead of him close by. He gripped his gun tightly in his hand, stripped the poncho off, and moved around the trees trying to see into the darkness for the shadow that was out of place.

He stepped from among the trees into a small clearing and stopped to slowly scan everything around him. Dean had only partly turned when he was attacked from behind, sending him stumbling forward but not going down. He jerked around and brought his gun up, only to have it knocked from his hand by a hard blow, numbing his arm. The Rougarou growled and advanced on Dean swiping his clawed hands out trying to injury him. Dean jumped back and dodged the strikes as he tried to see his gun in the darkness.

A sudden roll of thunder startled them, making them freeze for a moment as it rumbled through the forest shaking the trees around them. A streak of bright lightening bounced across the sky giving Dean just enough light to spot the shine of his gun lying about ten feet away. Just as he started to move for the gun, the Rougarou backhanded him, catching him on the shoulder and side, knocking him sideways to the ground, stunning him, and cracking some ribs. Lightening flashed again, finding its way into the forest and striking a tree not far away.

Dean rolled to his stomach and crawled toward the gun, ignoring the radiating pain in his side. He dug his fingers and the toes of his boots into the wet mud trying to push forward as fast as he could. Just as his hand closed around the butt of the gun, his leg was grabbed, and claws dug into his calf. Dean cried out in pain as he was pulled backwards. He rolled over and brought up the gun to get several shots off hitting the Rougarou, making him release his hold on his leg, but he lashed out again sending the sliding away in the darkness. The beast was knocked back with the impact of the bullets, but it didn't go down. It roared its rage to the storm breaking over them and started advancing toward Dean again with claws raised ready to tear him apart, but he was changing.

A crashing noise sounded behind the now changing Rougarou, and a large, shadowy figure rushed from the brush toward the beast. With one mighty swing of a machete, the Rougarou's head detached from its body and rolled across the ground as the body crumbled at Dean's muddy form.

"Dean!" John cried out to his son when he saw him go down.

"Dad?" Dean gasped in surprise and shock as he tried to wipe the rain from his face. He fell back working on breathing and fighting the burning pain in his calf.

"Are you hurt?" John asked kneeling beside him and pulling a light out to shine over Dean's body. He looked behind him when Mackie hurried into the clearing panting and wheezing. "We're good Mackie."

"Good," he waved leaning over to catch his breath.

"Leg, arm, and ribs," Dean hissed as pain radiated across his chest when he tried to draw in a breath. His arm throbbed from the blow he had taken, making it useless and he cradled it to his chest.

John handed the light to Mackie to hold as he carefully slipped his hands under his shirt and felt his sides, not finding any blood at least. He heard Dean groan in pain as he pressed in on his ribs thinking they were probably bruised. He gently took Dean's right arm and felt swelling around the wrist and hand. He moved down to his legs and felt wetness on the left one.

"Shine the light on his leg," John ordered Mackie before moving to remove the small pack Dean was carrying. He turned Dean's body enough to see his calf and took a knife to cut his jeans leg away so he could see the gashes. He pulled a field dressing out and quickly wrapped his leg to control the bleeding until he could get him out of the forest. "Son, think you can stand?"

"Don't know," he grunted.

John carefully helped Dean sit up as he clutched his side and tried to take short breaths so it wouldn't hurt so bad. Dean let Mackie and John lift him up from the wet, muddy ground and almost face planted as he tried to balance on wobbly legs. He couldn't put any weight on his injured leg and leaned on John, letting him hold him up.

"Let's get him set on that fallen tree," John told Mackie. "I'll find a limb that we can use as a seat for him to get him out of here. He's not going to be walking on his own."

They moved Dean over to a fallen tree and got him seated while John started looking for a limb to use. He finally found one and came back to them.

"We'll let him sit on the limb and pick up each end to carry him. Okay Dean, think you can stand and sit on this?"

"Yeah, I'll try," Dean nodded as he tried to breath.

"Mackie get on the other side and take that end so he can sit down."

Dean carefully sat back on the limb, feeling John and Mackie taking his weight and put his good arm around a shoulder to balance. His side ached with the movement, but he clenched his jaw and didn't say anything. He was lifted off his feet and they began to carry him back toward the vehicles. It was slow going and Dean felt every jarring movement of the journey. He was sweating and pale and barely holding onto consciousness.

"You can drive my truck and I'll drive the Impala," John told Mackie once they got to the road and made it to the truck and car.

"Fine with me," Mackie said. He eased Dean down by the Impala and waited for John to find Dean's keys to unlock the doors.

They got Dean settled down in the backseat and as comfortable as possible before heading back to town. Dean gave them the motel name and room number as he faded in and out. They made good time getting back to the motel and got Dean inside his room. Mackie went and got a room for himself when John said he was staying with Dean.

John cleaned and stitched the gashes on Dean's calf and wrapped his ribs hoping it would help with the pain. He determined his wrist was badly sprained and wrapped an ace bandage around it for support. If he wasn't better by morning, he would take him to an emergency room. He cleaned him off as best he could before he would allow Dean to sleep. John settled on the couch with a pillow and blanket relieved he had found Dean in time to save him. He looked over at his sleeping son and blinked back the tears when he realized how close he came to losing him.

The End